As You Know It
by JadeFox1
Summary: After six years spent at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Hermione must decide between following her 'friends' into the oblivion of hatred or having the school reopened. When she chooses the latter it leads to unexpected events that could change
1. The Choice

A/N: Hello and welcome to "As You Know It". I'm Morgan, the author of this story,I do not claim in any way to own anything mildly related to Harry Potter. All reviews appreciated. Sit back and enjoy. grin

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**Chapter One**

Summer once meant relief from all the evil in a society where her blood mattered more than her brains. This particular summer, however hot, was different. The two worlds she lived in, the normalcy she sought, no longer existed. Now the only thing that remained was fear. And hatred to some degree. Her own room, once pink and cheerful, was almost a direct representation of those feelings. Dumbledore and Harry saw to that. All her things, precious muggle knick-knacks, had been taken down, replaced by an empty frame and objects whose meanings she had yet to learn. Mail was reduced to code words, often without words at all. Her world as she knew it was turned upside down. Especially now that Dumbledore was gone, and his murderer ran free.

How often she wondered if she had just stepped in his way, Demanded he explain what was going on. Would Dumbledore have lived? Would he still be her potions professor, their spy, and the only one who could really help them? He had murdered their protector and she hated him for it, but when facing facts he was still invaluable as a spy. Now the order was in the dark. Everyone was in danger. She and her family included.

Hermione turned from the darkness to glance at her mirror as she did from time to time. Not once did it show her reflection, but then she was hardly a threat to herself. Harry on the other hand…Even if Hogwarts reopened she knew she wouldn't find him there. He was determined to kill Snape, and then Voldemort. Hermione turned to her window again to observe the falling raindrops. Snape. Professor Severus Snape. Ex-professor now, what on earth could he have been thinking? To have killed Dumbledore, the only man that ever had any faith in him. And what about Malfoy? He saved him from death, but for what? He would only be murdered by Voldemort later. And why had he let her live? He had distracted her with Flitwick, effectively taking her out of the fight. One she wouldn't necessarily have come out of alive. It was in fact the only reason that she spared her potions master a second thought.

"Hermione? Hedwig dropped off something for you downstairs. And…there's something else…from Hogwarts."

Hermione whirled around but her mother had already left the strange room she now occupied. In fact she couldn't remember the last time either of her parents opened the door to her room. They, much like McGonagall, did not believe students should return to Hogwarts. Luckily Hermione had come of age in the magical world. It was McGonagall's choice to reopen Hogwarts, but it was Hermione's prerogative to live in the world of her choosing. The unfortunate part of that decision meant leaving the other world behind. If she chose the muggle world she would be leaving behind a lifetime of magic. Her friends, her wand, she would be leaving the only world in which she might truly find happiness. Looking around, Hermione realized that the muggle world held nothing for her now. The only problem leaving this world behind was her family. If she fully stepped into the world of magic, where she was a muggle born witch, she would be dooming them to torture or worse. Voldemort would not take pity on her parents just because they were clueless.

"Hermione, Pig is here with a letter as well. Honestly you need to take all these things to your room."

Her mother's voice, harsher than the first time, broke her free from her thoughts. The letters as her mother specified were on the table, but it still came as a surprise to see so much mail at once. The Hogwarts emblem along with Headmistress McGonagall's handwriting was apart from the rest. Information regarding Hogwarts was kept quiet for the duration of the summer, so Hermione reasoned that being a little shaken was not completely unjustified. Breaking the seal gently, knowing the outcome her parents wished for finally arrived, she began reading McGonagall's fine script.

Miss Granger,

It has in fact come to our attention that, by decree of the school governors, if one student wishes to remain at Hogwarts and continue their education, the school must reopen. I have of course written to the three of you first. Potter will not return, Mr. Weasley follows him, but I had to wonder about you. I myself would not blame you for deciding to forgo the wizarding world what with the war that is coming, but I thought to ask you just the same. Will you return to Hogwarts, and in doing so force the school to open its walls to all who would seek its protection? If so…

Hermione allowed the parchment to fall to the ground. McGonagall was offering to open the school. For her. Because of her. Hermione looked at her parents expectant, relieved faces, wishing for something to lighten the hurt they would experience. Instead she picked up the letter and the others on the table and began climbing the stairs. Halfway up she stopped, her voice calm and strong.

"I'm going."


	2. Diagon Alley

**Chapter Two**

The trek through muggle London was one of the worst experiences of her life. Neither parent spoke a word to her, their voices dead after fighting for hours with her decision. In the end they decided it would be better for all parties if she left that night. Hermione fought back tears at her parents callous attitudes, and willingness to endanger her despite all they knew. Not that she would give them the satisfaction. Taking the money they threw at her and all her belongings, Hermione made her way through Diagon Alley without a backwards glance. This was her world now, and she was alone in it.

"Tom, I need a room. For a week yes."

The caretaker did not seem particularly pleased to see her, but money was money, even in the wizarding world. He led her to the smallest space available and left, neither asking her about Harry or if the room was suitable. Hermione set her trunk in the corner, not bothering to feel offended. There was a war going on, she couldn't blame tome for not wanting any trouble. The people occupying his bar were not the most amiable looking. Still, it wasn't as if she were Harry potter himself, or even Ron. She was just Hermione. Just. The thought made her want to break something. The whole summer she'd debated her words at the end of last year. She would follow him, ever the faithful brain. But that was all she was. After Bill and Fleur's wedding they'd sat concocting a plan of action, but she hadn't been included. "This is man's work" Ronald told her. They would consult their spell choice with her later. Hermione had been furious. She had after all protected them all these years. It was she who discovered that the Sorcerer's stone was in the castle, SHE had discovered the Basilisk. But it was Harry and Ron that went looking for it. They received the credit for her work. And Hermione? She'd blindly cheered them on, never once questioning their friendship.

And now that she had chosen to save her home, to have Hogwarts reopened, they ignored her. Each of her letters were returned by an apologetic Hedwig, the seal she had used remained unbroken. This was how they treated their "friend". After all the times she'd bailed them out of trouble. Grabbing up her wand from the table, Hermione checked those thoughts at the door and set out into Diagon Alley. To complete her duties, as Head Girl she imagined, McGonagall had sent her a list of various ingredients as well as books that she would be required to have. And as the day seemed to grow ever the more gray, Hermione journeyed into the deserted alley in hopes of beating the storm.

"Well if it isn't Miss Granger. Didn't think I'd be seeing you again."

Madam Malkin's panicked voice called out to her from the back of the store, and with it came relief. Hermione spent almost the entire day buying up items, but had yet to come across a familiar face. Madam Malkin, if not slightly pale, looked at her welcomingly. Along with textbook orders, the headmistress sent a few coins explicitly, she had said, for new robes. It had seemed unusual, not only to pay for a student, but to request different robes from the standard Hogwarts ones. But Hermione did not ask, nor did she object to a few extra galleons. Nothing would come as expected this year.

"What's this? Miss Granger, you've grown up! And your hair…"

Hermione smiled timidly as the older witch walked in circles around her. Her mother, after seeing the pictures of the Yule Ball had offered to get her hair done professionally. Both of them knew it was her last attempt to bring Hermione back to muggle life. And though her attempt failed to work, whatever the stylist had done worked perfectly. Not to say that the battle of frizz disappeared entirely, but it was more controllable. Her hair no longer resembled a rat's nest, but rather waves. It was an improvement, one which wasn't lost upon the robe maker. Or her friend. Hermione could sense a pair of eyes gazing at her from a corner of the room, but by the time she turned to look there was no one to be found.

"So Miss Granger. What exactly are you looking for today?"

She had ceased marveling at Hermione's change of appearance, and started glancing around nervously. Hermione wanted to mention the pair of eyes she'd felt burning holes into her back, but said nothing. Malkin was already tense, as she had been the last time Hermione had come into the store. If she knew about someone watching her with customers she wouldn't come out and say it. So instead of worrying about the entity she set out to business.

"Headmistress McGonagall has requested you outfit me with dress and work robes. But she specifies that they not be of the usual Hogwarts make." Hermione glanced around at the selection apprehensively. "I just don't know what she is looking for."

Madam Malkin gave her a funny look, but began roaming around the store suggesting Hermione do the same. It was hard to pick what with the variety in the store. Madam Malkin threw colors at her left and right, different materials, different…accentuations. In the end she convinced Hermione to buy five robes, three of which were made of cotton, one of velvet, and one of silk. This selection she declared would fit whatever McGonagall had in store for her. And as for the dress robes…

"This is lovely dear." She said, picking up a pair that was set aside from the others. "Perhaps you should try these on."

The dress robes Madam Malkin handed her were more of a dress then robes, but they were beautiful all the less. Olive colored, crushed velvet, the dress had a modest square-cut bodice that no doubt would give the illusion of massive cleavage. The back laced up over another set of fabric, along with a sort of bow, and a modest train. Despite green being Slytherin color's the dress robes were astonishing. And so was the price. It was nothing that she could really afford. Too much of a splurge on her part.

"Try it on dear. Go on. Perhaps they are on sale." The older witch went to look at a ledger she kept stored in the counter. But as Hermione went into the dressing room to try it on, she dropped the book back where she had found it with a sigh. They _were_ rather enchanting robes. And the small displacement of air as she walked back in confirmed it.


	3. Birds of Menace

A/N: Finals are here everyone, lol, so I'll probably be updating again once I go back home (sat/sun). I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as long or as polished, but I wanted to continue, and at least give you something to chew on. Anyway. I hope you enjoy. R/R. Bye!

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The remaining days went by quickly for Hermione as she spent most of them in her room inhaling the books McGonagall demanded she buy. A great many contained potions and charms, but she noticed as she finished them off one by one, they were getting progressively more practical. Healing potions, spells for everyday use, half of which she'd discovered in her first year. In fact… she had this book.

"Dammit" she muttered, checking the title. It had cost her a pretty penny. Deciding to return it later Hermione went through her list one more time. Nothing new. So what would she do with the extra money? It wouldn't be prudent to waste it on something frivolous, like a new set of scales. Looking around the room, Hermione tried to take note of anything she was missing. Nothing jumped out at her. Except for Crookshanks when she looked underneath her bed.

"Silly cat" she admonished. "I'm going out and when I come back it's into the carrier with you."

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The second walk through Diagon Alley had not been as pleasant as the first. For one thing, the vendors were no longer scattered along the street, driven off by the rain, which of course presented her with her second problem. The entire place had a chill, and fool that she was, Hermione had left her cloak back with Crookshanks. 

"Oh honestly! How could I forget?" she admonished herself quietly.

Any further comments died on her lips as Hermione watched the scene unfold up ahead. A large man, the owner of Eeylops Owl Emporium, was running toward her, arms outstretched, yelling at the top of his lungs. Hermione immediately reached for her wand, but the words stuck in her throat. He looked as if he'd gone mad. But as he came closer she hesitated to hex him. He was shouting something.

"Come back here you mangy bird! I'll have your neck for this!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and saw the bird in question. Dark, sleek feathers, a crow perhaps? It seemed to have trouble flying, she suspected the owner of the emporium had gotten ahold of it before. She almost felt sorry for the thing, except that it was leading the mad man her way.

"Only one thing to do really" she whispered. "_Immobulus_"

Hermione raced over to the crow and snatched it out of the air before the owner could finish his curse. Her indignation must have been apparent, the older man pocketed his wand quickly, and held out a hand. Who did he think she was, some brainless twit? There was no way she could hand over that bird without gaining a guilty conscience.

"I think not. I am willing to buy this bird off of you sir. Name your price."

"You don't want that thing! It's ugly and unpleasant. Not the type of bird for a pretty young thing like yourself."

Hermione cradled the bird to her chest, aware that already it was breaking out of her spell. She could almost feel it's anger at being immobilzed, and there wasno doubt in her mind thatit would pay her back. Still...there was something about the crow that drew her to it. Perhaps it was the fact that if she did not find a place for it in her life, it would die. Or the simple fact that she needed a carrier. Either way, Hermione found herself stroking its long feathers, and thinking how best to convince the owner.

"I am hardly young sir. And besides, he is what I want. I will have this bird."


	4. Names

A/N: Finals are OVER! And now as promised another chapter. Next semester is going to be tough but I plan on regularly updating. Please leave me comments/reviews. One I like reading them, and two it makes me update more frequently if I know that there are other people who like the plot. lol. Anway, without furthur adieu...

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_'Of all the overpriced, obstinate'_. Hermione wanted to scream in frustration. The damn thing bit her. It had taken her ten minutes to convince the owner that this was the familiar she wanted. Ten minutes of begging, pleading, and in the end flirting. And yet here they were. She had dealt with the repulsive man, spared this bird's life, and the damn thing bit her. It was worse then Crookshanks. Who by the way was eyeing the crow like it was a midnight snack. Hermione was almost tempted to leave them alone in the room together, see how that would make it feel. 

"No Crookshanks. You must learn to play nice with…hmm. What ever shall I call you?"

The crow glared at her as she bandaged its broken wing absentmindedly. Naming this crow would bind it to her, for better or worse. If she just healed it and left it nameless…well then there would be less for her to worry about. She had done her duty as a Gryffindor, she'd spared the thing from a cruel and unusual death. She'd even bothered to wash it, joy that that had been, and fix its wing. Her duty was done. But then this wasn't really about duty. This crow was more than it seemed, she'd realized it before Crookshanks had even sensed her master's new pet. It was smart, cunning, and highly underestimated. _'Like me'_.

The thought came unbidden to her mind. She had always been underestimated, whether by Harry and Ron or by her teachers. To them she was book-smart, not courageous or cunning. She was praised for nothing else than the good sense she had been born with. Not that it wasn't enough. Hermione was not the type to go looking for praise, or to break rules just for the satisfaction of knowing they would earn her the admiration of her peers. That was something the boys were famous for. And she had to admit that despite the hurt, and their obviously low impression of her, she almost missed being a part of that. After all, they had been the trio for seven years now. And seven years was a long time.

"Oh I don't know. You are a handsome crow." She said to no one in particular. "And I do need a carrier. I suppose keeping you wouldn't be so bad, would it…"

_Severus_. Hermione lurched forward to catch the crow, ignoring the reproachful glare. Where had that name come from? Yes he was every bit as obnoxious as the late potions master. And she supposed that if the marauders were smart enough to become animagi then Severus very well could. Hermione smiled at the thought of saving her former professor. No, smart as he was, this bird could not be Severus. There were similarities to be sure, its blatant disregard of her attempts to save its life, its crankiness, and sleek black feathers. But Severus Snape would not have allowed her to save him. He was a powerful wizard, and she highly doubted that if he had been chased by the owner of Eeylops, that he would continue to allow the man to do so.

"Still I think it would be rather funny…" Hermione stroked its feathers in an attempt to placate it.

Of course Ron and Harry wouldn't find it as amusing if they ever spoke again. After all, Harry took Dumbledore's death very personally. As if no one else had been affected. Hermione held the crow up in front of her eyes suspiciously. An animagus generally had markings, features that identified with its human form. Her first thought was to check its leg. Nothing. And as she could hardly judge based on the overall cleanliness of the bird… Hermione frowned at it while she thought. She didn't want another Peter Pettigrew on her hands, especially if the boys…

"Why am I worried about what they will say! I'm not going to apologize for who I am. And if they don't want to talk to me because of it, well, that's their choice."

She glanced down again at the bird in her hands. If they were truly her friends, and chose to return and apologize, well they wouldn't care if she had another familiar. Or if she had named it after someone who had taken them into immediate disliking. Not that she could really blame him right now. They were being right gits to her.

"All right, all right. I'll let you go back to your perch…._Severus_."

The crow made no acknowledgment of the name it had been given, but Hermione felt a ghost of a smile grace her lips. This bird was a Severus. Severus. She said the name to herself a couple of times, until it had become more of a mantra than a name. A very Slytherin name in her mind, harsh in meaning but smooth. Silky. Like a snake. Hermione snorted as the bird began preening itself. Since when had she become so interested in names? Or in his name in particular. It was not the sort of name she found common in muggle London. Although it did roll off her lips rather nicely.

"Hmmm sleep well Severus. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

She didn't even bother planning on breakfast in the alley. The more time she spent there the more she realized that it wasn't safe for her. Not for now anyway. Besides, she was rather interested in what the headmistress was planning for her. Why did the person running Hogwarts always have to be so mysterious? Hermione had the feeling Albus Dumbledore was like that from the moment he was born, but Professor McGonagall? Of all the teachers she was the most forward.

"Interesting. Interesting in deed." She mumbled.

Perhaps she would be allowed to eat in the main hall with the rest of the professors. Surely with school rolling around again they would be returning to the castle. She would definitely be interested to see the two latest professors for the Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions classes.

"Goodnight Crookshanks…Goodnight Severus"


	5. Reservations

With the morning came unbearable screeching. Severus apparently didn't take to having the windows shut on him. As soon as she was able to think consciously, Hermione threw back the window curtains and allowed him to swoop in with the daily prophet. She fed him some treats, that placated him, enough to stop the sound of his shrieking anyway.

Once she felt he had accepted her apology, she glanced at the headlines.

_'Hogwarts Reopened, Statue erected in Dumbledore's likeness'_. She continued her perusing of the page until she ran into her name.

_"Since the death of the late Albus Dumbledore, the fate of Hogwarts has in fact been under much speculation, but today it was decided. In less than a week the castle will be reopened, and classes resumed. The curse of the DADA position and the current standing of former potions master notwithstanding, Minerva McGonagall the newest Headmistress of Hogwarts has found herself two new contemporaries. Former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus J. Lupin, will be welcomed back into his old position, and joining him in the interim position of Potions professor, is none other than a Hogwarts student going by the name of Hermione J. Granger. Minerva McGonagall has vouched for her, and she has a long list of credentials including…"_

The paper dropped from her hands before Hermione could read the long list of her accomplishments. The headmistress planned to make her the potions professor. That was why she had been asked to get different work robes, why she had been given money to shop with. Hermione should have seen it sooner. She was to take Professor Snape's position until McGonagall could find someone more qualified than her, or equal to that of Professor Snape. Hermione didn't know whether she should be pleased that McGonagall would even consider her for such a position or be offended that she hadn't even been asked if she wanted fill it. She would much rather be Head Girl than be ridiculed by the rest of the students, teaching a class that she barely knew anything about. Who would respect her? Who would listen? People like Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson, they would find ways to humiliate her, make becoming a professor at Hogwarts more like a death sentence than a privilege.

"Oh Severus, what am I going to do? What was McGonagall thinking?"

She stroked the bird absentmindedly, not bothering to pull her hand away when the bird began to bristle. Crookshanks was certainly not one to enjoy her ministrations either, but at least this familiar did not scratch her. What a horrible way to begin the morning. And it was only going to get worse. Headmistress McGonagall would expect her at the great hall for breakfast, and no doubt, that was where she would spring the surprise. How could Hermione, the best student in Hogwarts, the one who craved learning the most, how could she turn the headmistress down? Sure, potions wasn't her favorite subject, but as a teacher, and with a salary, she would have so many avenues to choose from. It would open the doors to the wizarding world, wasn't this what she had always wanted?

"But at what price?" she whispered.

Say she did take on this new status. She would only be a professor for a short time. During that time she would be in a rather compromised position. Being both student and teacher, Hermione would hardly command the same respect that Professor Snape had, or even professor McGonagall. As a student she was made fun of, her love of learning and books was seen as a deficiency, even teachers like Snape had not appreciated her avid fascination. As a professor, Hermione couldn't see herself faring any better. She had not even finished her schooling! The people that she taught, that she reprimanded, would be the ones that she would work along side in other classes. She could only imagine the scathing remarks that she would get, to her face, let alone behind her back. She was only lucky that Harry and Ron had decided not to attend Hogwarts this year, otherwise she'd be accused of favoritism, and then hassled when there wasn't any.

"Caw!"

Hermione was torn from her reverie by Severus' screeching. Her touch seemed to have become a bit too firm for his taste.

"I'm sorry Severus." She murmured. "I suppose there is nothing I can do now. Nothing but go to breakfast, and let the scene unfold."


	6. Familiarity

A/N: Thank you for the reviews everybody. Here is another chapter (two in one day). YAY! Sorry if its too short. Anyway. I'd love any comments. Thanks.

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Despite her reservations, Hermione was determined to look nice, this day would of course signal her coming out into the wizarding world. It was weird returning to Hogwarts in velvet maroon robes, instead of the plain black ones, but she supposed it was something that she would have to get used to. Just as she had become accustomed to using magic to transport herself everywhere instead of muggle car. Natural, her mother would have said. '_Mum_'. She hadn't talked to her parents since she had left their house. Not a phone call or an owl, that was how it was going to be with them. She should have expected as much, they were muggles, their world was different and they had no understanding for anything else.

That was one of the most important things that a job as Hogwarts professor could give her. Money. It was something she needed now that she was no longer welcomed in her parents house. She had no job offers in the Muggle world, she hadn't even gone through secondary school. Her parents had effectively accomplished what they set out NOT to do: push their daughter so far into the Wizarding world that it was her only world. She wondered how they would take it if she had ever pointed it out to them. Not well, she would imagine. Although she supposed that despite everything she had to be grateful. Being torn between two worlds was a hard thing, even for her…especially for her.

Taking one last look into the mirror she apparated into Hogsmeade, and began the seemingly long journey up to the castle.

Severus flew ahead of her several yards announcing her arrival with an unpleasant screech. By the time Hermione had reached the great hall, Lupin was standing at the gates, ready to levitate her things inside.

"Hello Hermione. It's good to see you again. I don't suppose you'd like to know why I'm here."

Hermione didn't bother to pretend she was surprised. One look in his eyes told all. Professor Lupin had not elected to become a professor again either. Who was Minerva McGonagall to meddle with their lives. Lupin wouldn't last long, not once some of the students wrote home. How many of their parents would honestly be comfortable with a werewolf teaching their children? Apparently this thought had crossed his mind as well.

"A regular Dumbledore," he muttered throwing her a ghost of a smile, "but Nymphadora convinced me that this was the right thing to do. She's had a lot of input lately."

Hermione noticed the pink tinge in his grey face. It was a welcome change in him, as were the robes that he had donned for the morning. Hardly what she would call extravagant, but he certainly didn't look as ragged as usual. Maybe McGonagall had something greater planned for them. Or maybe it was simply that instinct that Dumbledore seemed to have, transferred onto her. Who knew what the future had in store for them?

She had always assumed that her destiny was so closely tied to that of the boys. That she, like Ron, would be tied to the destruction of Voldemort, but perhaps she didn't know as much as she thought. Perhaps they didn't. What if this was her destiny? To live and prosper within Hogwarts. Who were her parents, or her friends, or anyone else to meddle with that destiny. Maybe Remus was right, maybe this was the right thing to do.

"I'm glad you've found someone to tell you what is right. We all need someone like that."

He nodded thoughtfully as he placed the bags down for Filch to take to her new home. Wherever that would be.

"And what about you Hermione? Do you have someone like that?"

Lupin's eyes searched hers, but he looked away just as quickly. She'd thought she had that once. Whether it be from numerous sources or just one. She'd had someone to tell her that the choices she made, however dangerous, were in fact the right ones. It had been a comforting feeling, knowing that someone has the power to tell you that your actions were right. But that was once upon a time, in a different life.

"No, but I'm okay with that. I've had people telling me what to do, what's right, for the past eighteen years. I think that it's about time I start making my own decisions. Make my own way in life. Don't you?"

Lupin didn't say any more on the subject, just led the way through to the table where the Headmistress and other professors sat eating their breakfast. Several of which stood, as did McGonagall, to embrace her. Here she was among family. People that had served as parents, raising her in the best way they could: whether it was by kindness, strictness, or plain callousness. '_Not that he's here'_

"Miss Granger. It is a pleasure to see you. Please, please sit down."

Hermione took a seat beside Lupin across from McGonagall and waited for everyone else to busy themselves with food.

"Interesting things I've seen in the paper, Headmistress. Never thought I'd ever see my name in print, but I suppose you captured my attention. How could I refuse?"

Professor McGonagall gave her a discerning smile, one that was not entirely lost on her. She lacked his subtly, something that Hermione was sure she would learn with time. She was brilliant after all.

"Why Miss Granger, I don't know what you are talking about."

There was that damn smile, and suddenly, Hermione knew that the life she had known was over. And her new life was just beginning.


	7. Pity and Forgiveness

"Miss Granger, it really isn't that hard. I think you would make a wonderful Professor. You've got that thirst for learning that we like to see in our staff members, you are the brightest witch of your age, and you are the only one that I would trust in the position of potions professor. Honestly I thought you would be pleased. It's not the Minister of Magic, but it's surely something better than what those muggles could offer you."

Hermione had spent the last several hours talking with Professor McGonagall, and as it had many times before, the conversation was becoming tense. She supposed she was being a bit ungrateful. After all, this position came with much esteem, and she would have free reign of Hogwarts. 'And the library'. Hermione looked around Headmaster Dumbledore's old room silently. Besides, who would want the position of Potions Master now? Even with Slughorn having stepped in for a year, the position was still Snape's. They were his rooms, his private collection of herbs. No one wanted to follow in his footsteps, or be accused of it. It was for this reason after all that Slughorn had left in the first place. 'But this is your chance, isn't it. Take it.'

"I'll do it."

Minerva whirled around to regard the young witch who had so valiantly fought not to become a professor. Hermione could almost see the wheels turning in her head, curiosity starting to form over the sudden decision. Fortunately Hermione didn't have to explain her reasoning. The headmistress was just happy she accepted. Otherwise she feared the position of Potions Professor would remain unoccupied, and the subject discarded.

"Well. I suppose now that that's been settled I can show you to your current living quarters."

She held up her hand before Hermione could protest.

"Professor Granger, before you go off on a rampage? Because of the nature of your employment I cannot allow you to be Head Girl, there will simply be no time. You will of course receive the honorary title, but I believe that being a professor will be much more valuable. Now I haven't any time to dwaddle. School begins tomorrow and unless I am much mistaken you would like to work on some lesson plans. Unless of course you would like to enter a class of your peers unprepared."

Hermione shook her head as the headmistress suspected she would. This was far from over. But it was enough. Hermione allowed herself to be led through the castle, and into the dungeons. Her new domain. She refused to call it home. As they descended together in silence a strangled caw came from behind. Thirty paces from her Filch was screaming at the top of his lungs, chasing what looked to be Severus. Mrs. Norris she noticed wasn't far behind. Quickly Hermione reached her arm out to the bird hoping the poor thin was smart enough to accept her help.

"That's it Severus. Not to worry. I won't let Mrs. Norris eat you."

Hermione allowed the crow to climb up to her shoulder, far from Mrs. Norris' reach. Once the familiar had adjusted itself she turned back to present company. Both of whom looked shocked and where regarding the bird with suspicion. If he noticed the suspicious glares Severus didn't let on, Hermione on the other hand felt her cheeks stinging with embarrassment.

"Miss Granger, an explanation if you please."

Hermione saw her hand hovering over what she imagined was her wand. The crow nestled closer to her hair, sensing the danger.

"Professor McGonagall its not what you think.

"And what would you know of what I think."

Hermione winced at the icy tone. Hadn't she just been about to shove her into Severus' living quarters? Into the position he had filled for more than two decades? Minerva was right to be angry at his betrayal, whether they were the result of Dumbledore's order or not, but at his name? It was hardly fair. Nor was it fair to be angry at Hermione for naming her bird such. After all it did fit the creature.

"I know _headmistress_ that you would not kill a bird, a simple crow, for bearing the name of one who has hurt you so dearly."

"Betrayed, Hermione. He didn't just hurt me. He betrayed _us_ and all our cause stands for."

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The rooms adjoining his private office were decidedly Slytherin in nature. This was not what surprised her. What surprised her was that his things were still in it, in whatever state he had left them. Although vastly untouched and clean, she could see at least one vial that remained uncorked. A strengthening potion she surmised. So he'd needed to take a strengthening potion to kill Dumbledore. Hermione stopped short of the bedroom.

"The ministry didn't want anything disturbed until their pathetic sham of an investigation was over. Now that it is I cannot bring myself to tidy up the place."

Minerva glanced around the room. Focusing on a bottle of firewhiskey in the corner.

"I tried to befriend him. We were colleagues after all, and Dumbledore seemed to have a love for him. A love none of us could understand. I suppose that in the end not even Albus' love could save him. I don't know whether to pity the poor bastard or to hate him with unrelenting fury. What does it take to make a man dead like that?" she turned to Hermione sadly. "To kill the only man who ever loved him, ever trusted in him."

Her words ceased to become coherent. So there was still pity in her. Hermione placed a trembling hand on her shoulder. Minvera had loved Dumbledore as much as anybody. To show even the smallest consideration of pity for the man that had killed a loved one. She must have been a saint.

"Severus has seen a lot Minerva. I have never known the extent of his doings within the death eater, but I imagine returning to them is punishment in itself."

Minerva turned to her then, something alight in her eyes.

"Hermione I don't know what to think. I never thought that he would…"

"Neither did I. I wouldn't have let him past if I had thought…"

"None of us did" she brushed away a stray curl from Hermione's face before continuing. "and I still don't want to believe it. I suppose that's why I cannot be the one to kill him."

Hermione stiffened suddenly underneath her hand. She knew who would believe him capable of it. Harry wouldn't pity his former teacher. He wouldn't consider sparing his life, as he had done for Pettigrew. He wouldn't wonder as they did, what could of made him kill Dumbledore or why, if he was truly evil, he hadn't struck Harry down right there. Killed him on the spot.

"He shouldn't be killed Minerva. Not by Harry, nor by any of us. He deserves a fair trial!"

"And Albus deserved his life." She said frostily. "I will not pretend that I don't often wonder where Severus' loyalties lie, that I pity him for the choices he has had to make. But do not, for one second, perceive my pity as forgiveness."

Minerva stepped from the room in one smooth movement, feeling her anger starting to drift from the betrayal of Severus Snape to the youthful conviction that Hermione possessed. For several years Potter and his team had suspected Snape of deceit, and she along with the rest of the staff had reassured them of his loyalties. Now it seemed, all those times she had tried to drill it into their heads had succeeded. Maybe she was not foolish enough to believe in his innocence, but the girl seemed to be longing for a sensible reason behind his actions. Something that would make him, however dark, innately good.

"I will now leave you to your own doings Professor. Keep what you like, dispose of anything you do not. I'm afraid that this conversation best be put off for when things have…cooled down. There is still much to account for I am afraid. And while Dumbledore was never one to jump to conclusions, I fear I will be found lacking in that particular area. Although I admire your faith, Miss Granger. I do. And I'm sorry if I upset you on your first day. It's not been easy with…with him gone."

Hermione squeezed her hand, and watched her as the older woman made her way to the Headmaster's office.

"No." she whispered to herself. "And it never will be."


	8. Professor Granger

**A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers**. This chapter has taken a long time to put out due partially to time constraints and writers block. I would like to acknowledge the following reviewers while I am here:

**Duj:** Just because JKR never put the words in Hermione's mouth doesn't mean that she never had the slightest doubt as to his loyalty. Although she was always the more respectful of the three, this is my story, and as such I have the power to acknowledge that doubt exists within human nature. Whether or not she verbalized it, I think that everyone was rather wary of Severus Snape. Except for maybe Dumbledore. And as for the reassurance that Snape was not a criminal, I believe that Dumbledore in particular DID in fact reassure the three of Severus' loyalty, and we see this reinforced by Hagrid. The fact that I included Minerva should be of no consequence to you or anyone simply because she did not encourage the notion that Snape was evil. Otherwise we would have heard her verbalize it in the last six books. Thank you for the time you spent reviewing.

**Videl621, Pure Girl, Kakashisninjadogs, and anyone else who has an interest in the crow hereby named Severus:** There seems to be some debate as to whether the crow IS Severus or is simply kept BY Severus. Hehe. In truth you will all have to wait to find out. But keep up the debate. I'd be interested to see what you all make of him.

And as always I love reviews. It is very encouraging to see how people like it so far. Enjoy!

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Left alone in the dungeons, Hermione began examining the contents of the office she'd never been welcome in. Several vials of blood replenishing potion, enough ingredients for a polyjuice potion, and among other things Amortentia. With her handwriting on the vile. Apparently Slughorn had shared her success with him. Even from a foot away the smell of grass, parchment, and . . . rain? . . . invaded her senses. The most powerful love potion in the world. Idly she wondered what he had smelled in its contents that fateful night. If such a potion had an effect on him at all. Hermione smiled to herself, fingering the vile.

No wonder Minerva hadn't tidied up after him. The entire room was a shrine to him. Not Snape the murderer, but Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master. With a shiver Hermione realized why should not bare to change the place either. She almost expected him to come back. Like Harry much after Sirius fell through the veil. This was, she suspected, Severus Snape's home. She could imagine getting caught red-handed in the process of shifting the color scheme.

No she decided. She might tidy up after him, but the shrine would remain. Should Severus Snape ever return to Hogwarts he would no doubt be looking forward to this place.

"Caw! Caw."

Hermione allowed the crow to nuzzle itself against her cheek before setting out in search of a proper perch. Not that she'd ever seen anyone bother owling Professor Snape. Aha! Perhaps he had kept a feathery friend. Sitting in a far corner, near the door leading o his chambers, was a black wooden perch. It was half hidden and a bit run down, but it would do. Severus certainly wasn't complaining. He looked quite comfortable on the gnarly branches. She only hoped she would be as comfortable. With a barely concealed yawn, she placed a hand on the knob that led to his chambers. Her portrait apparently had been left open by the ministry. Hermione took the time to close it behind her, before entering the darkness. As when she walked into the third floor during her first year, the torches on the wall came alive at her entrance. Clever. Very clever. And energy efficient.

Hermione observed the room from the doorway. The torchlight almost made it…romantic? And that was without the fireplace. Laughing to herself, Hermione took in the wall to wall bookshelves appreciatively. Very nice. This room like the last held traces of gree, but not as much nor as bright. The foreposter was made of ark cherry wood. The curtains as well as the comforter were dark green. Hermione could change them she supposed, but not now. For now she wanted to rest.

Pulling back the comforter to reveal pale almost silver sheets, Hermione felt her heart give a start. She could almost see his outline in the bed. The pillow looked beaten into submission, and like the mattress, it had sunk a little in response to his form. With the tiniest of smiles she ran her hand along the pillow indent, before changing into her nightclothes, and slipping into bed. It smelled like him. Not greasy, more like a combination of soap and parchment, and something else she couldn't place. Curling up into his mold, Hermione found herself falling asleep quickly. Oblivious of anything else going on around her, she was unaware of her clothes being folded or the torches being put out. The dungeons remained silent for the rest of the night, save for her soft breathing and the occasional caw of a watchful Severus.

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There was no light in the dungeons to imitate the sun, but the gentle hum of the room woke her just the same. Glancing after her watch sleepily, Hermione began glaring at the room. Six a.m. The room had woken her up at six a.m. _Blargh_. Well students would be coming soon enough she supposed. And she wanted to get a start on those plans.  
Pulling out a large planner like parchment that Severus had stowed away she went to work, unaware of the eyes that had now come to rest on her working form.

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"Good evening Miss Granger. See here Filius, I told you not to worry yourself. Miss Granger seem perfectly fine."

Hermione felt Professor Flitwick eyeing her nervously. 'Oh honestly'. She caught herself before giving Flitwick and McGonagall a lecture. One night alone in those dungeons wouldn't kill her. Although apparently the other staff members weren't so convinced. Hermione made a note not to skip two of the three meals served in the great hall. She certainly didn't want to be accused of becoming bewitched. Bristling at the thought of being removed from the dungeons because she was not hungry, Hermione chose to focus on the students rather than join in on the conversations. And that was when she it.

The entire Gryfindor table was abuzz, and she distinctly felt Parvati Patil pointing up at her. She ducked her head, but knew that resistance was futile. Her robes may have been a pretty shade of blue but her face was beet red. And pretty soon the entire room was gazing up at her, fully aware that Hermione Granger was not only missing a certain badge, but was also sitting up at the head table practically drowning herself in pumpkin juice. 'What have I gotten myself into'.

"Professor Granger, are you quite alright?"

Hermione glared in Professor Flitwick's general direction as his squeaky voice seemed to reverberate across the hall. Now he'd done it. Professor. She could practically see the hall light up again as the news traveled. Hermione Granger was a professor. Some laughed, some glared (perhaps fully aware of the difficulty her course would give them), and then there were some who seemed completely shocked. Among those one stood apart from the crowd, Ginny. Lovely. No doubt Ron and Harry would find soon.

"May I have your attention please." Professor McGonagall stood up. "I've several announcements to make."

The hall quieted, all eyes turning to Hermione rather than McGonagall. A fact that did not go unnoticed by her colleague.

"Oh very well. First let me introduce your new potions professor. Professor Granger."

Hermione felt Hagrid nudge her, practically sending her flying into the pot roast. Luckily she regained her balance, and gave them a curt nod.

"And many of you may remember Professor Lupin. He will once again be joining us as the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher."

Hermione saw him give everyone a small smile, but none, not even Ginny, acknowledged him. Their eyes remained what seemed indefinitely on her.


	9. His Classroom, Her Way

**A/N: So. I extremely sorry/beg forgiveness for the 2 months of not writing. I have received several comments concerning the continuation of the story. Yes I'm continuing it. Slowly but surely. This chapter is a small one, but I promise they will expand again as I get more and more free time. Please read and review. And as always...enjoy. 3**

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The room was silent upon her entrance and she got the uncanny feeling that someone was watching her. The students were of course all focused on their new Professor, but there was something else. Someone else. Hermione glanced around the room with about as much subtlety she could muster before sitting calmly in Snape's old chair. Whatever the phantom wanted, it would reveal itself soon enough. Right now she had a class to run. Hermione glanced down at the shiny faces. It had been pure luck she'd gotten ahold of the first years so early in the morning. Perhaps if she could impress upon them the seriousness of her position it would spread along to their higher counterparts. Standing rapidly Hermione did the only thing she could think of. A flick of her wand sent the shutters flying, the torches roaring to make up for the lack of light. Here she was the empress, the queen, and anything else that would mean respect and attention.

"Clear your minds of all wand waving, and incantation shouting. This is the class commonly referred to as Potions, and I will be filling in the interim position of Potions Master. You may call me ma'am or Professor Granger, but not Hermione. In this classroom I AM your professor. I come up with your assignments, I give and deduct points, and I will expect to be treated with respect. Anything other than that will be deemed unsuitable and I will not hesitate to deduct points from any of your houses. Is this clear?"

She gave them no time to respond, nor to argue, instead she quickly wrote down the page number of their first assignment, one similar to the potion she had created in her first year. And as they flipped to the appropriate page she saw the beginnings of a reverence born of candor, not of fear. It had not been what she expected, she had hoped to take on the air of severity that her former potions professor had instilled, but in the end found that she would achieve his classroom in a different manner. After all, however much she admired Professor Snape for his ability to keep them in line with his harsh ways, she was not Professor Snape. His were the rooms she lived in, his was the classroom she would teach in, but at the end of the day she was not him. She was just Hermione.


	10. Notes from the Writer

**A/N:** So. I realize that on this site posting just random author's notes is not allowed. But something has come to my attention that I believe we all need to understand (We being You, the reader).

I am a writer. Plain and simple. I love to hear from you all, and constructive criticism is welcome (such as mentioning I forgot to spell green with a 'N' ). However, I think you all need to understand something about the nature of fanfiction and real novels.

Firstly, none of us know J.K. Rowling (at least I've not had the privilege of knowing her) and as such none of us are privy to her private thoughts on the Harry Potter collection. So. You the reader do not KNOW for absolute certain that Dumbledore ordered Severus to kill him, none of us KNOW his exact loyalties, yes some of us have our suspicions that he was ordered to kill Dumbledore by Dumbledore himself, but until J.K.R comes out and says it to us it cannot be assumed.

This leads me to my second point. I've found that is a wonderful website that allows readers from all over to express their take on stories and shows. As writers we can expand on certain aspects of the story that we feel were left out (such as Hermione's lack of gumption when it comes to separating herself from the boys).

Now. This is all an interpretation. I read the books and I notice that McGonagall hasn't said "Now listen here you three! Severus Snape is an evil man and not to be trusted" and according to my interpretation I imagine that while we cannot hear her thoughts (and she may very well not like Severus) that she is not against him. Thus if I say that she had discouraged the notion that Snape was evil, I have the right to say so as it is My interpretation. So I would appreciate it when my story is read that everyone keep in mind that I AM mixing in my interpretation with real facts from the book.

I realize that some of you might take this the wrong way and become angry with me for putting this all so bluntly. I am not speaking to everyone, most of my readers are very cordial and I am always pleased to hear from them about spelling errors, plots they suspect, etc. This is the high point of writing for a web-based audience. If you get offended I am sorry, however I felt that this needed to be said. As much as I love you all, I am a writer. I write mostly for myself, not for my imaginary audience. I know people often read stories that challenge their perceptions of the original novel, or that they don't understand in the sense that they are biased toward certain characters. I understand this, I simply ask that you do not criticize me, the writer, about what characters have said, what they do, or what my interpretations of the collection are.

Thank you very much for reading my story, and for reviewing. I will continue this story immediately, and I hope that everyone else can put their personal bias aside and continue to enjoy my work with me.


	11. Two Cauldrons, a cloak, and a crow

The last students had just left the classroom as Hermione's head slid onto the desk. How did her professors do it? Neville Longbottom, sweet boy that he was, was a bloody nightmare. Two cauldrons…TWO. Now she had to go out and buy herself a new one. Hermione's head popped up. Maybe she would get one of the specialized cauldrons that some of the newer potions required. She'd love one made of shatter-resistant glass. Tilting her head slightly so as to get a better view of the corner behind her she smiled. Still there. The whole lesson she'd felt the phantom watching her, she'd been slightly nervous at first, had almost dropped an entire vial of veritasium (she'd planned on pouring it down the throat of a seventh year who'd stolen her books from her desk). Luckily the vial hadn't broken, in fact it had hung in the air a mere two inches from the ground for a second longer than it should have. Hermione smiled at the corner again before getting back to planning the next day's lessons.

Whatever this phantom was, it had hands, and it was alive. She'd yet to meet a ghost that had the power to move things. This too had almost driven her worry. The phantom could be anybody, a murderer, Voldemort, even the minister of magic come to spy on the school. That thought had been dismissed however when she saw the enchanting professor that had taken over Care of Magical Creatures while Hagrid recuperated and continued to plan out his secret meetings with the giants. She'd not known of course about the last minute substitute until lunch, when the young wizard named Cassius accosted her. He seemed charming, and witty, but Hermione recognized that self-assured smile as the smile of a trickster. She wouldn't have put it past him to hide under an invisibility cloak.

She supposed that it was a bit forward, and at some point this fascination with watching her would have to end, but for the moment Hermione let it rest. After so long of being ignored a little attention she thought calmly, couldn't hurt. She couldn't deny that despite her lack of feeling toward him and his advances, she had been the tiniest bit relieved. Better to know that an overzealous teacher was pursuing her, then a follower of the dark lord. The sooner they caught her, the sooner her parents lives would be in danger. Before she had left the house for good, she had cast one last charm on the grounds. Unless she spoke the location, her parents would be forever safe from the dark lord. Hermione would be their secret keeper forever, her last duty that she would perform as their daughter. Not that they knew it of course. They still hadn't contacted her. Not to see if she'd arrived at Hogwarts okay, not to see what she was doing in her spare time. It was as if she'd never had parents in the first place.

"Caw Caw"

Hermione looked up to see her crow drop a letter on the desk. One treat later, she was able to finally read it in peace without the obnoxious cawing of a hungry bird. Tossing the letter into the fire angrily she made a note to buy some pet food in Hogsmeade when she went for her cauldron. Come to dinner. 'Come to dinner', she repeated angrily to herself, as if she were a petulant child holing herself up in the dungeons. After all those miscreants from Slytherin, Neville, and then having to deal with her own classes and the silence from Ginny Weasley, she didn't want to see another human again for a long time. But that didn't mean she would start skipping dinner. The headmistress, and Flitwick, were starting to sound like her parents.

Throwing herself on the bed, Hermione crushed her face into a nearby pillow. All the responsibilities of an adult with few if not any of the advantages. All the other professors could skip meals if they wanted, but not her. When it came to regular meals, or threatening to take away points from people in the hallway, she was still just a student. What was the point of being in this compromised position if there was no benefit from it beside money. What was worse, both Severus and that phantom which she assumed to be Cassius (which had yet to be confirmed) followed her into her lair. How was she supposed to find comfort in the dungeons if she had a pair of eyes staring her down, and a crow cawing at her in desperate need of food?

Hermione flipped over onto her back just in time for Severus to land on her stomach and begin scratching her.

"Severus what are you doing?! Stop it this instant! I'll go get you food I promise, just stop scratching, you ruddy bird."

Fixing her garment quickly, Hermione allowed the bird to land on her shoulder. Split personality, the bird had to have a split personality. This Severus was calm, and didn't seem to want to poke her eyes out. Perhaps because he was finally getting what he wanted. Food. It wasn't such an odd request, even birds had to eat. Petting him awkwardly, Hermione marveled that he didn't attempt to push her away. Guilt began pooling in her stomach. She'd been neglecting the poor thing. Even in Diagon Alley she hadn't given it much more than a treat, and the owner of the owl emporium hadn't seemed like the nurturing type either.

"Don't worry Severus. We'll go get you something to eat."

Marching straight up to what once was (and would forever be in her mind) Dumbledore's office, Hermione prepared to tell the Headmistress exactly what she thought of being treated like child. But upon arrival all the words left her head. Headmistress McGonagall was yelling shrilly at none other than Cassius, and in her hand was one of the rarest finds in all of the wizarding world. Hermione had only seen one other of its kind.


	12. Keeper of the Timeturner

"A Timeturner! Where did you get it?! I demand you tell me at once."

Hermione knocked on the door loudly in an effort to make her presence known. She'd never seen McGonagall so angry except maybe the night she'd found out exactly who had killed Dumbledore, it was unnerving. Her face, normally calm and collected, was twisted with fury. Hermione could see the hand that was clutching the timeturner shaking. If Hermione didn't step in soon, she was afraid that the headmistress would crush it.

"Excuse me, headmistress? I'm sorry to interrupt but I must go down to Hogsmeade, my crow is getting peckish and needs food immediately. I was just coming to tell you I won't be at dinner."

McGonagall turned toward her, opened her mouth to speak then closed it sharply. Hermione glanced at Cassius from the corner of her eye. He it seemed was off the hook, and noting that carefully took his leave of them. Once the door had clicked, and the gargoyle was heard jumping back into place, the headmistress walked in a circle around her. Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit like her prey. Was it perhaps that she'd chosen an excuse over being forced to eat dinner with the faculty? How good of a legimens was McGonagall exactly? Dumbledore had only to look at students before seeing the truth of their statements. She'd never known McGonagall to posses that power.

"Professor Granger, I believe I have something that once belonged to you."

McGonagall smiled enigmatically, and dangled the chain before Hermione. Hermione found herself reaching out in recognition, it was the same timeturner she had used in her third year. But why did the headmistress want to give it to her?

"I would not want this to fall into the wrong hands _again_. You served as its protector for a year did you not, would you be so kind as to watch over it once more?"

No response was required evidently because McGonagall dropped it into her palm and made her way back to her chair. Hermione carefully placed the chain around her neck and tucked the necklace beneath her robes. There was more to this than she was seeing. There had to be. Just a few minutes ago Cassius was being yelled at for stealing such an important object, and now here she was leaving with it. What exactly was the headmistress planning behind that newly calm exterior?

"Professor Granger you are dismissed. Go buy your familiar some food in Hogsmeade if you wish, but do not stray beyond those borders. It is not safe at night for young muggle-borns such as yourself. And whatever you do have extra care that you follow the rules of the timeturner. Should you use it of course."

Hermione nodded and walked quickly toward the door. Follow the rules of the timeturner. So it HAD been given to her with an ulterior motive. Besides protecting it from the likes of Cassius, there was something else she was meant to do. But what?

* * *

With Severus perched on her shoulder, Hermione made her way down to Hogsmeade aware of the ever watching eyes. Several times she turned around to glare at the offending spot, but knew it was no use. The phantom continued to watch and follow her all the way down to the village. Once she had purchased the food for Severus, the glass cauldron, and nearly stepped over the threshold of an apothecary, Hermione whirled around and grabbed the air behind her. An invisibility cloak, no surprise there she thought angrily, and of course there was Cassius. He grinned at her like a fool perhaps expecting a treat for annoying her beyond all imagination. But there was no treat, instead she gave him more of a rough shove out of the store and a slamming of the door behind him. The cloak she kept, and would hand over to McGonagall in good time. That man was becoming a real menace. Stealing rare things like timeturners, invisibility cloaks, and then following her around. He was lucky he didn't get more than a shove.

Hermione took a calming breath before looking around the store and heading straight for the ingredients that she had thought to get while cauldron shopping. She had to admit, not having a pair of eyes staring at her back made life much more enjoyable.

"That will come out to two galleons madam."

Hermione paid the man and left, ignoring the fact that Cassius followed not ten feet away. Enough was enough. She didn't need someone watching every move she made. And not Headmistress McGonagall or Cassius Kettleborn, or Flitwick could convince her otherwise. Hogwarts was still the safest place for a muggle-born whether it had been broken into last year or not. And Hermione intended to keep it that way.


	13. Christmas Time

Months passed with few minor incidents. The school in general had chosen not to forget her appointment as a professor, Ginny still had not spoken to her outside the realm of a question, and it remained unclear if she had chosen to make Hermione's appointment known to the two boys. In Hermione's mind it was none of their business, but no doubt if they received the Daily Prophet they would eventually have something to say about it. Slytherins were always a source of annoyance, pointedly bringing up her parentage, her inability to teach a class of pure-bloods that had been concocting in their miniature potion labs at the age of four, while Hermione had still been amused with her book of fairytales.

Sometimes they knew exactly what to say that would hurt her, but at the end of the day when she was grading their pathetic attempts at written homework Hermione got her retribution. Pure-blood or not a fool was a fool was a fool. Their potions and grades were shabby and she wouldn't have done such haphazard work even in her sleep.

The timeturner, and its purpose had left her mind around Halloween, but she still kept it close to her heart. At some point, she was sure that its meaning would be revealed to her, but until then she would serve as its protector. Managing her own classes on top of grading papers had been a difficult task at several points during her four months as a professor. She was only glad that she had spent years in preparation of her N.E.W.T.s otherwise she would have hardly been able to keep up with any of it. Or alternatively, she would have driven herself mad trying. Either way the Christmas holidays had fallen upon her and, with a sigh of relief, Hermione awoke at six to prepare for the last day of classes.

Wandering into her office to take a quick glance at her schedule for the day, Hermione began noticing the two weeks of vacation that loomed beyond that day. Her planner, filled to the brim up until now, was completely empty. No parents, no real friends, what did professors do exactly during their holiday? Grabbing up some notes she'd taken, Hermione walked across the corridor to her classroom. Disturbing really. It was the first holiday she would be completely alone. No one making plans for her, or with her she reminded herself. What to do with all that time?

Smiling as she gazed out the charmed windows in the dungeon, Hermione began thinking of all the things that she'd been wanting to do lately. Perhaps she could study for her N.E.W.T.s during that time. And she'd been wanting to observe some of the natural plants in the Forbidden Forest.

"What a load of bollux. I don't want to study during my holiday. I could look at those damned plants any day" she huffed.

Who would have thought her favorite holiday would become the most depressing of them all? Hermione wrote the instructions to the day's potion on the board, prepared her ingredients deftly, then thought of breakfast. Perhaps her colleagues could suggest something interesting to do. Maybe not Binns (not that he would come to breakfast), but maybe the headmistress would have something of importance for her to do. Or maybe there was a place all the lonely unmarried professors went together. A sort of vacation from the students. Somewhere sunny.

"Good morning Professor Granger. Have some orange juice, it was freshly squeezed by the house elves this morning."

Hermione glared at Cassius and reached for a cup of coffee, but not before 'accidently' dumping a load of sausages in his lap. Chortling happily into her coffee cup she couldn't help but see the uplift of the headmistress' normally tight-lipped face. The sooner Hagrid was done with the giants the faster he could get back to his classes…and they could all be rid of this nuisance.

"Slept well last night, Professor?"

Hermione turned toward her innocently, the cup still in her hand.

"Why Headmistress, it just so happens I slept very well. So well that I was thinking I should take a stroll out in the forbidden forest after lunch. We all should."

And with that she made a wide motion with her hand effectively spilling all of her drink in Cassius' lap. The look of false horror was hardly convincing to her or anyone else she had known for the past seven years, but Cassius bought it as she had hoped she would. Patting her hand gently, he took leave of them all explaining that he should get a head start on the day's lessons. Something which in Hermione's opinion should have been down well before breakfast. Turning back to Professor McGonagall with a serene smile, she began pouring herself another cup.

"Why headmistress, I think it is going to be a fantastic day. A shame Professor Kettleborn can't join us on that walk." Taking a sip, she continued. "But I was wondering if there was anything you'd like me to do during the holiday. Any potions you need? Tasks that need to be done for the order?"

The headmistress gave her a sideways glance. One that she was unable to interpret.

"Most professors return to loved ones during the holiday. The order is busy looking for horcruxes, I suppose you could find Mr. Potter and help him during the holiday if you'd like. No? Well, I've no need for potions. Haven't you anything to do?"

Hermione guiltily played with the gold chain around her neck. Wasn't she the pathetic bookworm. She was looking for work to do over the holiday. Even as a full-time student she hadn't gone that far.

"No." She whispered. "My family and I aren't speaking, and I've not been invited to the Burrow this year. I suppose Mrs. Weasley isn't too happy that I've left the boys in favor of Hogwarts. Nor that I haven't been returning her owls about me and Ronald."

"Well Miss Granger, give it some Time. Isn't there anything that you would like to research or perhaps go back over? Well. Time is what you need more than anything, I'm sure it will all work out. Just give it some Time."

Three. The number of times the headmistress had said Time in a sentence was three. At least with Dumbledore there had been a twinkle or something. What on earth would she want to go back over so desperately that she would resort to the timeturner? And why, given the repercussions that could possibly occur would the headmistress suggest such a thing. Hermione thanked her for her input and made her way back to the dungeons to think. Interesting. Very interesting.

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The rest of the day went dragged on at a snails pace. The words of Professor McGonagall had not left her, they prodded her, teased her. She was missing something vital. It was on the edge of her mind, waiting for her to discover it. What could she possibly do with the timeturner? Relive a past Christmas secretly with her parents? Not very enjoyable considering she'd be forced to hide the duration of the week. What would she want to go back over?

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Despite her earlier reservations, Hermione was grateful when classes were over and the students began to leave for their homes. She didn't even want to look at their end of the term papers. Sticking a piece of pork in her mouth, her gaze wandered over to the Slytherin table, while she chewed. Not many of them returned this year. Not that anyone had been surprised. She wondered what Draco was eating for Christmas, whether Snape would bother cooking at all wherever they were. She snorted at the thought, but put her fork down. She did feel for the ferret. According to Myrtle he'd been blackmailed, and according to Harry he hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore in the end. Maybe not the kindest wizard in the world, but Draco Malfoy had proven he could never be a cold-blooded killer. Not that it had saved Dumbledore.  
This would be their first Christmas without him. She could already see the puffiness of Professor McGonagall's eyes. They would all miss him, this Christmas especially. He had always been a light in the darkest of times. One that even Severus Snape could look to, if he ever felt the need to see the goodness in life that is.

Hermione put her glass to her lips, about to take a sip of pumpkin juice, when it was suddenly ripped out of her hands and thrown to the floor. She felt the hair on the back of her neck start to rise, as she slowly inched her head toward her left. That was a feeling she had not had in months. Turning back to her dinner, she stared at the plate for a moment. She was being watched. Cassius glanced over at her, unsure of whether he should say something.  
The phantom was no longer close to her, but it was still present in the great hall. She could feel two eyes narrowed, watching her every movement. If it was an enemy, she feared that any gesture to alert someone of its presence would cause it to do harm to the students. And there were too many in the great hall for her to risk it.

"Headmistress, I'm going to retire to my rooms. I believe some sleep is in order. Goodnight everyone."

Hermione smiled as best she could before walking out of the main doors, and past the phantom. She was not surprised that it followed her, in fact she was relieved. At least the students were safe. Walking down the corridor toward the dungeons, she hoped that whatever had caused it to reappear in her life would reveal itself.  
What had she been thinking about before the phantom had appeared? The timeturner mainly. Draco. Snape.

Hermione whirled around, knowing the phantom would stop too. Severus Snape. The timeturner. There WAS something she would like to go back over. Something that she very much needed to know. Smiling nervously, Hermione entered the lair, and led the phantom into what had once been Snape's bedchambers. This was what the headmistress had been hinting at. Hermione was still plagued with doubt, with questions. Questions that no one but Severus Snape would be able to answer.

Sitting on the ground, Hermione pulled out the timeturner and quickly did the math. One.Two.Three.Four…

Hermione lost count as time began reversing itself, and a blur of people whirled around her. Ministry officials, McGonagall. And then Snape himself…


End file.
